


Us+Baby is Three

by NicolexoN



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicolexoN/pseuds/NicolexoN
Summary: Fin’s been feeling like shit, probably because of that gas station sushi. He’ll put off going to the doctor for as long as he can.
Relationships: John Munch/Odafin "Fin" Tutuola
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Us+Baby is Three

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started watching SVU from the beginning and I’m only on season 11, anything that doesn’t match with the later seasons is for this reason. (: also - this is literally my first time writing in the SVU fandom, be kind. ^_^

Fin stared at the doctor, trying and failing to grasp the information he’d just been given.

The sergeant had been feeling under the weather for the last two weeks. You name it, he’s gone through it.

When the heart burn and fatigue hit he’d chalked it up to shitty eating habits and sleepless nights on the job.

When he was almost brought to tears listening to a victim recount her attack, he assumed he was getting soft as the years went on.

When he went on a stake out with Rollins and couldn’t go an hour without having to piss, his partner pointed out that it was deserved for downing a Big Gulp during their lunch earlier that day.

All of those instances were inconvenient but were easily explained away, Fin wasn’t worried at all.

That is, until he found himself puking his guts out at 5 AM.

Three days in a row.

He would’ve continued denying something was wrong, if only he’d been able to make it to the guest bathroom on the third morning.

Now, as John was rubbing his back and holding his hair out of the way, he knew the older man would force him to go to the doctor. The slightest sniffle was enough for John to consider him an incubation of sickness.

So, the next day Fin found himself sitting on the exam table having been poked, prodded, forced to pee in a cup and answer awkward questions regarding his sex life.

When he was finally allowed to re-dress, the doctor who’d been overseeing his exam informed him that he’d need to go see a completely different doctor - at the other side of the ridiculously huge hospital.

Now, after having walked _at least a mile_ , this doctor wants to try and be funny by cracking jokes.

That’s the only explanation for the words that just came out of her mouth.

The doc must be yanking his chain, because there’s no way he could possibly be-

“You’re pregnant, Mr. Tutuola-Much,” she repeated when the man in front of her didn’t react to her initial announcement. 

Fin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief and panic shot through his body. “T-that’s not possible,” he said, wringing his hands and forcing out an uncomfortable chuckle. “I've been taking contraception; have been for years.”

The doctor, who’s name tag reads _Dr. Singh_ , _hmm’d_ in understanding and flipped his file open, skimming the documents briefly.

“I do see traces of birth control in your blood work,”

She made a quick notation and then gave her attention back to Fin with a gentle expression. “Naturally, you won’t need to continue taking those for the duration of your pregnancy-”

“But I can’t be pregnant!” Fin nearly sobbed, what’s the fucking point of the pill if it _sometimes works._

Dr. Singh calmly removed her glasses, a kind expression not wavering. “These things happen. Seems the fetus is almost three months, conception would be around Valentines’ Day.”

Fin sucked in a sharp breath, the day in question jumping to the forefront of his mind.

The holiday had fallen on a Sunday this year, giving the perfect opportunity for him and his husband to hump from sun up to sun down.

In addition to frequently pulling each other back to bed, his husband also ensured they consumed their weight in expensive whiskey (a gift from John’s new colleagues at the DA’s office).

Fin groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. Twelve years on the pill and the _one time_ he forgets, he immediately gets knocked up.

Ain’t that a bitch.

“I’ll assume that particular date doesn’t surprise you,” Dr. Singh said softly, a small smile on her face.

The sergeant forced himself to sit up, momentarily pausing his freakout. “Yeah, sounds about right.” he said grimly, hands clasped in his lap to avoid fidgeting. 

“Mr. Tutuola-Munch,” Dr. Singh started

“ _Fin_ works fine,” he assured the woman, softly.

He and his husband always thought people who demanded to be addressed by their hyphenated last names were pretentious pricks. 

“Then please call me Dana,” she said and continued in a non-judgmental tone. “You know you do have options, Fin.”

He nodded, fully aware of all his choices he’d have to make but assumed she was still required to provide all all his options to him. 

“Open/closed adoption, terminate the pregnancy or raise the baby with your husband.”

_Fuck_ \- Fin hadn’t even begun to think about how he would tell his husband.

The last time they had jokingly mentioned little Fins and Johns terrorising the world, John had said - verbatim: “The kindest thing I could do for a child is make sure the Munch bloodline dies with me.”

Fin felt tears prickling behind his eyes, heart rate speeding up at the thought of his husband refusing to have this child with him. He sniffed and averted his eyes, avoiding the waiting gaze of Dr. Singh.

“I just need some time, Dana.” he said, voice cracking slightly. Fin pushed up from the chair in a rush to get the hell out of this hospital before he started full-blown sobbing. 

Dr. Singh took pity on him, only handing over a folder containing all needed information and making him promise to schedule a follow up appointment, before letting him go. 

Fin absently stumbled down the hallway towards the exit, folder clutched in one hand, forcing the tears not to fall.

There’s no way he could talk himself into aborting a baby made entirely out of love.

There’s also no way he’d gamble with this child’s happiness and safety by putting them in the foster care system, having been in SVU for over fifteen years and seen the horrors that can come out of the underfunded, understaffed department.

He had no idea how his husband would react to his pregnancy, having said more than once that kids weren’t something he wanted. The mere thought of his husband not accepting their child was enough to break Fin’s heart. He’s loved that man since the second he stepped foot into the sixteenth precinct all those years prior. 

“Fin?”

The man in question was pulled out of his pity party at the familiar voice that called out to him. 

He looked up into the face of Melinda Warner, medical examiner. She had a bag of take-out in one hand, drink in the other. 

“M-melinda, what’re you doing here?” Fin asked, cursing himself for being very clearly panicked. 

The medical examiner raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and gestured to the food in her hand. “Lunch with an old friend from John Hopkins.”

The sergeant forced himself to calm down before speaking again, hiding the folder partial behind his leg. “Oh, right. I won’t keep you from the reunion, then.”

He gave an unconvincing smile and started to walk past his colleague, fully intent on turning the corner and sprinting to his car.

“Is everything OK, Fin?” She asked before he could even make it past her, genuine worry on her pretty face. 

Fuck.

Fin paused for a second too long, trying to come up with an explanation, “Yeah, of course. Just picking up some stuff for Ken and Alejandro. He wasn’t feeling too good because of the baby and Alejandro has work.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, but it was totally plausible that he wanted to help out his six-month pregnant son by running some errands.

They bid each other farewell and Fin was finally able to run (speed walk, really) to his car and get the fuck out of dodge. He only took a half day off, so he needed to haul ass across the city to the sixteenth before the captain had his ass.

***

“I would still like Warner’s COD before we tie this victim to Brunson’s MO.” Cragen said to the squad. “If this victim did die from strangulation then work it separately and catch them both.”

The squad all nodded, hoping the latet serial rapist/murder/sadist was responsible for this recent attack.

Gregory Brunson was the talk of the media and 1PP was on their asses more than usual to hurry up and solve this case. He evaded police capture twice now and after both instances killed a minimum of three people in the day that followed.

The current problem is that the latest victim was ten years too young to be a part of Brunson’s scope. He tended to go for mid to late 20s, blonde hair, blue eyes and working prestigious jobs.

With this new victim, they were all thrown for a loop. Maria Valdez was fifteen, brown hair, brown eyes and still in highschool. 

Either the perp was trying to throw them off his scent or they were dealing with two separate serial rapists/murders at once. 

Regular Tuesday, honestly. 

Fin was the one to point out that Brunson wasn’t into cutting and stabbing; he tended to strangle his victims after he raped them. While Maria was strangled, she also had multiple stab wounds on her body. 

Once they got an actual cause of death, they could proceed accordingly. 

“Ask and you shall receive,” Warner called out, strutting in and waving her report in the air. “Cause of death: exsanguination. The perp definitely choked her, but not with the same deadly force as the other victims received. Plus, the imprints on her throat were smaller than the others.”

“We’re looking at two different perps, then,” Cragen announced and turned towards Fin and Rollins. “You two work this new case, Bensen and Stabler will stay on course with Brunson.”

Fin sighed, knowing he’d be here all night now that their work load just doubled. The only thing Fin was in the mood to do was cuddle up to his husband as the older man watched whatever conspiracy theory documentary suited his fancy tonight.

As soon as he began thinking of John, the universe decided to reward him and screw him at the same time.

“Captain, brought those appeals you wanted.” John said, walking into the sixteenth with his hands full of files.

The ex-sergeant plopped the documents on Elliot’s desk (ignoring the annoyed grumbling from the desk’s owner), making a bee-line to Fin. 

“Didn’t expect you to bring them personally, but thank you John,” the head honcho said, moving to the documents and roping Benson and Stabler into a different conversation pertaining to the appeals.

John waved off the thanks as he perched himself on Fin’s desk, cupping his cheek in a loving fashion. “How’re you feeling, my love?”

Fin sighed and nuzzled the hand, eyes sliding shut in contentment. Usually he’d hiss at John for the display of affection at work, not wanting to set off the homophobes he’d have to work with until his retirement (or until the dickholes died - whichever came first, honestly).

“M’fine.” Fin said softly and pressed a soft kiss to the other man’s palm. “Food poisoning; should be OK in a few days.”

_What?_

What kind of weirdo tells their husband they’re pregnant in the middle of their place of employment?

Move on.

John _tsk’d_ at him, caressing his face for a moment longer before removing his hand entirely. “It was that gas station sushi, I’d bet my pension on it. What’d I tell you about that crap?”

Fin snorted and rolled his eyes at his husband. “I should listen to you more, I guess.”

The older man smirked, “Your obedience in the bedroom is all I need.” 

Fin gasped, caught off guard by the comment and punched his husband’s leg. “You dirty old man.”

John leaned forward, placed a chaste kiss on the younger man’s forehead and got up. “That’s why you married me, you minx.”

“Temporary insanity, I take it all back.” Fin teased, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You’re ten years too late, sergeant.” John laughed and straightened his tie. “I’m on my way to meet Ken at Mercy Hospital for his check up, I’m making dinner tonight. Home by 8, mister.”

“Yes, sir!” Fin playfully saluted his husband, getting a dopey grin from his love before the older man left.

Not to be dramatic or anything, but he took Fin’s heart and happiness with him.

Fin sighed, painfully in love, and looked up to Melinda glaring holes into his head. 

_Shit._

She quickly wrapped up her conversation with Rollins and jerked her hair towards the hallway and began walking, not looking to see if Fin was following.

The sergeant bit his lip, considering making a run for it. He totally and completely put their earlier encounter out of his mind. But she obviously heard John speak about Ken’s appointment at _Mercy Hospital_. 

Fin definitely ran into her at _St. Catherine’s Hospital_ earlier that day. 

He begrudgingly got out of his seat and went to where Melinda was waiting, arms crossed and foot tapping. 

Before he could even ask what was up she started in on him.

“I didn’t know we lied to each other, _Odafin._ ”

Oh, she used his government name. This is not good.

“Melinda-”

She continued, “We’ve been friends for how long? Six, seven years? And colleagues for more than twice that amount of time. Why would you _lie_ to me saying you were there for Ken when you were really there because _you’re_ pregnant _?_ ”

Fin panicked, the woman’s voice got slightly too loud for Fin’s paranoia. He glanced around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear them before turning back to the woman.

“Can you _not?”_ Fin hissed and grabbed her arm gently, pulling her into the open interrogation room closest to them.

“You just told John _food poisoning_ caused your symptoms,” she pointed out, glaring outright. “You don’t think you should tell him he’s _going to be a father_?”

Fin clenched his jaw, scrubbing a hand over his face before he lost his temper. “I found out _today_ , Melinda. Jesus Christ.”

The woman’s expression softened immedietly at the revelation and laid an apologetic hand on his arm. “That’s why you looked so surprised when you saw me.”

Surprised was an understatement. Panicked, scared, three seconds away from _shitting his pants_ \- those work better.

Since Melinda insisted on having this conversation, all those negative and worried thoughts jumped to the forefront of Fin’s mind.

He hoped his husband wasn’t upset with him when Fin eventually got the courage to tell him about the baby. Fin doesn’t think he’d ever recover if John left him, but he can’t get rid of this baby.

But he loved John _so much_.

Fin hadn’t realized he started crying until Melinda moved to hug him, whispering soothing words of _everything would be alright_ and _please don’t cry_.

Fin didn’t believe everything would be alright, but was glad _someone_ knew his situation.

He’d tell John tonight when he got home.

***

Three days later, Fin found himself stomping up the stairs to his and John’s shared apartment. 

“How to _fuck_ is he going to send me home after I _said I was fine,”_ Fin hissed, shoving the door that led to the hallway open with excessive force.

Captain Cragen ended up sending Fin home for no reason.

One second they were gathered around, going over the facts of their newest case and everything was fine. 

Then Elliot walks in with his and Olivia’s lunch ( _philly cheesesteaks, extra meat, extra onions and added sauerkraut for Elliot)_ and the next thing Fin knows he’s getting a second look at his breakfast.

And so is everyone else, as he empties his stomach onto the floor right in front of them.

It’s not _Fin_ ’s fault that their choice of lunch made his stomach churn. He wasn’t sick and he told the captain that, but the man gave him a flat stare before forcing him to take the rest of the week off to avoid getting the other detectives sick.

Even though Fin wasn’t sick.

He could have told them that he was knocked up and not contagious, but he chickened out a few nights ago and still hadn’t even told his _husband_. 

So he roughly grabbed his shit and stalked out of the sixteenth precinct.

How was he going to explain to his husband why he was home before five on a Tuesday? He’s usually up to his elbows in work until eight, at least. 

He stood in front of their apartment door, heart suddenly pounding out of his chest. He had gotten a lot better at hiding the morning sickness, not wanting his husband to speculate that his illness _wasn’t_ food poisoning. 

But now, he couldn’t think of anything plausible to explain his early return home. 

Or why he would be home for the remainder of the week.

Other than the truth, obviously. 

Fin took a deep breath, twisting his key in the lock and pushing the door open.

John’s head popped around the corner, happiness swimming in his eyes and Fin kicked the door closed behind him. “You’re home early, my love.”

Fin stepped further into the apartment, taking in the smell of his husband cooking dinner. He sent a silent thank you to the man upstairs when the nausea didn’t hit him as he expected. 

Toeing off his shoes and loosening his tie, Fin made his way to his husband’s waiting arms. John held the younger man tightly, dropping a few kisses to the crown of his head. 

“Everything okay?” He asked as he began rubbing up and down Fin’s back, softly.

Fin nodded, head still buried in his husband’s chest. They stayed tangled in each other, neither making a move to break the embrace.

“I wanna tell you something,” Fin mumbled, tightening his hold on his husband. He was going to blurt it out before he lost his nerve - again.

Fin opened his mouth to continue but was cut off by the beeping of the kitchen timer. John slowly pulled away, a soft smile on his face. “You go relax, I’ll put the roast in the oven and then you can tell me, okay?”

The sergeant nodded, dropping his arms from his husband and watched the man disappear into the kitchen. 

This has to be a sign. Every time he tried to confess to his husband something got in the way (this was only the first time outside forces interrupted).

Maybe he should wait a few more days, just to be sure.

Sounds good.

Fin trudged into the living room, yanking the tie from around his neck and tossing it onto the coffee table. He flopped onto the couch with a heavy sign, TV already turned on to some cheesy reality show.

He can’t keep hiding this from his husband, he needed to come clean.

John came into the living room a few minutes later, carrying two glasses of whiskey. He handed Fin one of the glasses and sat down next to him, throwing one arm around the other man and bringing Fin flush against him.

Fin brought the glass up to his lips and was seconds away from downing the drink before he realized what he was doing.

He quickly placed the drink on the coffee table, cringing at what he’d almost absently done. 

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong.” John said, now watching his husband with a worried expression.

Fin’s mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure of the best way to tell his husband they were going to have a baby.

John abandoned his drink on the coffee table, turning to give Fin his full attention. “What’s going on, baby?”

Fin’s heart dropped into his stomach at the choice of pet name, immediately chickening out again. He forced a smile and leaned over to kiss his husband, clutching the collar of the older man’s shirt.

John attempted to pull back and ask him again if anything was wrong, which was kind of impossible to do with his husband attacking his mouth.

The older man eventually gave in, unable to resist his husband’s addicting kisses and soft whimpers. The pair maneuvered on the large couch, John laying flushing atop his husband, tongues tangling and spit mingling. 

Fin pulled out of the kiss, lungs burning for oxygen, while John turned his attention to his neck, licking, biting and sucking at the smooth skin.

The sergeant moaned, the feel of John’s teeth scraping the sensitive flesh, sending tingles down his spine. 

Fingers tangled in John’s salt and pepper hair, pulling his lips back to Fin’s. John’s lithe fingers creeped under Fin’s untucked shirt and tweaked his nipples.

The new-found sensitivity of the buds felt _so good_ but also made him feel like a POS for not having told John about the baby yet.

_Just rip the band-off, Odafin._

Fin pulled out of the kiss and attempted to get his husband’s attention. “J-john-”

The older man went back to assaulting his neck, tweaking his nipples again. Fin tried and failed to stifle and loud moan.

“Wait, hon-” Fin bit his lip when another moan threatened to slip out. He gently pushed at his husband’s chest, speaking only when the man locked eyes with him. “Do you want kids?”

John gave him a frustrated and confused look. “We have kids - Ken and Alejandro.”

Fin’s heart swelled with love for this man total and complete acceptance as an additional parent to his son and son-in-law, but he wouldn’t be derailed. “I mean, like a baby?”

John stared at the man before laughing shortly. “No, I think I’m good.”

He moved to continue their necking only for Fin to stop him again. “‘ _You’re good_ ’? So you never, at any point, want to have a baby with me?”

“Maybe in the first two or three years of our marriage, Fin, but that ship has long sailed.” John frowned, not understanding why they were even talking about this ten years into their marriage.

John also didn’t understand why his husband looked so heartbroken by his statement and - wait, was Fin about to _cry_?

Fin pushed more forcefully at John’s chest, signaling to get off of him. The sergeant wiggled from under his husband and off the couch, fleeing to the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

“What just happened?” John whispered to the empty living room.

***

“Baby, please let me in,” John pleaded from the other side of their closed (and locked) bathroom door.

After John willed his erection away, he went after his upset husband only to hear sobs coming from their bathroom. He knocked and knocked but Fin wasn’t answering him.

He was five seconds away from breaking the door down; his husband wasn’t a crier. The man didn’t cry in front of him even once the first two years they dated.

The gut wrenching sobs from the other side of the door were scaring him to be honest.

He wanted to respect Fin’s need for space but he was thinking of going to get a screwdriver and taking the entire knob off.

He thought through the whole ‘bum-rushing the door’ idea, his poor shoulder would hate him for it. 

Eventually the sobs died down and John listened as the sink was turned on and then off. He took a step back when the lock clicked and the door opened. 

Fin pushed past him, head bowed and already in his PJs. The younger man crawled into bed, back facing John, without saying a word.

John sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He softly caressed his husband’s back, trying to comfort him in any way he could. “Please tell me what's going on, Fin.”

For a solid minute there was no response, John almost thought the other man had fallen asleep.

Fin jerked away from John before speaking, “Nothing, I’m just being dramatic. I’m going to sleep.”

“So you’re not eating dinner?” John inquired and sighed again when the other man didn’t answer him. 

John’s heart ached knowing something was going on with his husband and his love didn’t want to confide in him.

“I love you,” John said softly, not expecting a response.

He pulled the covers up, making sure Fin wasn’t cold and left the room.

Once the bedroom door closed, Fin buried his face in his pillow and sobbed.

He felt like such an _asshole._

At first, he stomped away because he was genuinely upset that his husband clearly didn’t want to have children with him. But, the real cause behind his tears and attitude was his fear. 

He tried to talk himself into thinking he was overreacting and that John would be thrilled to have a child.

But now…

Fin didn’t know what to do.

***

When Fin woke the next morning he immediately noticed that John’s side of the bed hadn’t been rumpled. That explained why he doesn’t feel rested, he doesn’t sleep well when John isn’t there to hold him.

It was clear his husband hadn’t wanted to sleep with him last night after Fin had been so awful to him last night.

He resolved right before he fell asleep, that he was going to tell his husband about the baby the moment he woke up next to him. The fact that the man hadn’t slept with him further cemented the fact that Fin fucked up. 

He should have come home the day of his doctor’s appointment and told his husband what was going on, then none of this would have happened.

Fin brushed his teeth and splashed some cold water on his face to sooth his puffy and irritated eyes. He padded out of the bedroom barefoot, going straight to their guest bedroom.

The door was closed and Fin stood there, gathering all his courage before knocking softly.

“Come in,” his husband called from the other side, sounding distracted.

Fin opened the door and stood in at the threshold, hesitant. Johnsat at the head of the bed, blanket pooled at his waist. The man wore his glasses, his book now resting on his lap. John looked at his husband, patient expression on his face.

The sergeant started to tear up but willed them not to fall. He took quick steps to close the distance between his husband and himself. He clambered into the bed and cuddled up to John, who lifted an arm and let the younger man get comfortable before he spoke.

“Did you sleep well?” John asked calmly, placing a kiss on Fin’s head and then running his fingers through the long tresses.

A few tears escaped Fin’s eyes and soaked into his husband’s shirt. No, he didn’t sleep well. His body feels heavy and his head is starting to hurt. All he wanted to do was pretend everything was alright and fall asleep in his husband’s arms.

“I’m pregnant,” he whispered brokenly, burrowing as far into John’s shirt as possible and cried freely.

If he hadn’t been practically on top of John, he would have missed the sharp intake of breath and assumed the man was unbothered. The fingers running through his hair hadn’t stopped their caresses. 

John hugged Fin closer to him, letting the younger man cry until he couldn’t cry anymore. Once Fin was only sniffling, John attempted to pull him back in order to get a look at his face. Fin only held tighter and refused to look up at his husband.

“I’m sorry,” Fin said sorrowfully, muffled by John’s shirt. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

John leaned away from his husband, cupping the man’s face in his hands, forcing Fin to look him in the eyes. “Why on Earth would I be mad at you, my love?”

“Y-you said you didn’t want to have a baby..” Fin stuttered, heart breathing rapidly at the thought of all his unhappiness and stress being completely unjustified and avoidable.

John’s expression softened and he leaned down to kiss his love deeply. The younger man squeaked in surprise but didn’t pull away, having missed this man’s affection over the few hours they’d been apart.

John laid his husband down gently, moving to blanket Fin’s body with his own, conveying the intensity of his love for the other man. The pair reacquainted with the other’s mouth, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. 

Nimble fingers pulled Fin’s top up and over his head, lips reattaching themselves as quickly as they left.

John’s kisses trailed from Fin’s lips to his cheek, his jaw, neck and down until he was hovering over Fin’s stomach. 

He caressed the soft flesh, kissing every so often and stared in wonder. “The last time I was this happy you agreed to spend the rest of your life with me…”

Had he not been one hundred percent cried out, Fin would have started sobbing right then and there. Instead, he pulled his husband back up and proceeded to recreate exactly the kind of love making that got him knocked up in the first place.

They’d be OK, they’d raise this baby together and both of them couldn’t be happier.

Fin knew all along that he had nothing to worry about.

Ha.


End file.
